


Snow and Ice

by KaibaSlaveGirl34



Series: Prompt Fics [34]
Category: Static Shock
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e05 Frozen Out, Gen, Inspired by Music, Snow, Snow and Ice, Song: Once Upon a December, Winter, Wordcount: 100-2.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9052999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaibaSlaveGirl34/pseuds/KaibaSlaveGirl34
Summary: Set before Frozen Out. Permafrost’s thoughts as she hears a very beautiful song..





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harry2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harry2/gifts).



> Hey there, my fellow writers and readers. I hope you’re doing well. Anyway, here’s a new Static Shock oneshot that I cooked up one day. This time, it’s about Maureen Connor (aka Permafrost). She’s one of my favorite characters on the show, along with two others — namely, Madelyn Spaulding (from the Season 2 episode **Attack of the Living Brain Puppets** and the Season 4 episode **She-Back!** ) and Ebon (aka Ivan Evans). 
> 
> Disclaimer: Genius Dwayne McDuffie (may he rest in peace) owns Static Shock. The lyrics to Once Upon a December by Deana Carter (from the soundtrack to the 1997 animated movie Anastasia) and Carol of the Bells by John Williams (from the 1990 film Home Alone) belong to their respective owners. I own the fanfics that I cook up from time to time.

Snow and Ice

_Hark! how the bells_  
_Sweet silver bells_  
_All seem to say_  
_Throw cares away_  
_Christmas is here_  
_Bringing good cheer_  
_To young and old_  
_Meek and the bold_  
_Ding, dong, ding, dong_  
_That is their song,_  
_With joyful ring_  
_all caroling_  
_One seems to hear_  
_Words of good cheer_  
_From everywhere_  
_filling the air_  
_O, how they pound_  
_raising the sound_  
_O’er hill and dale_  
_telling their tale_  
_Gaily they ring_  
_while people sing_  
_Songs of good cheer_  
_Christmas is here!_  
_Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas!_  
_Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas!_  
_On, on they send_  
_on without end_  
_Their joyful tone_  
_to every home_  
~John Williams, **Carol of the Bells**

Snow. Ice.

This is what Maureen Conner, aka Permafrost, sees every day and night. She thinks it’s quite beautiful. Like the glass angel she once had as a child. The one her real father gave to her before he died. The one she was supposed to put on the tree that fateful night. The night she remembers all too well.

She would’ve gotten the chance, had it not been for her stepfather (who was, to her, a shadowy figure then, and still is even now in her memory) coming in the room and then leaving her and her sick mother. His slamming the door as he left was what caused her mother to start coughing and then have to be taken away by the ambulance. Her stepfather, she knows, had wanted nothing to do with her.

She pulls herself out of those painful, sad memories of hers as she looks up at the sky. Snow. White, cold snowflakes that fall from the sky when the sky itself turns grey. It’s almost as though there’s a sieve up in the clouds and the snow is poured through it — kind of.

Ice. It looks like plastic, but it isn’t, really. And it’s kind of slippery to try to walk on as well, especially if one isn’t careful. And that can hurt, too.

As Permafrost watches, children, teens and adults are skating across the pond that is now frozen across. _It sounds kind of fun to be able to do,_ she thinks. She then imagines herself skating, graceful, across the pond itself, like a dancer would move across the floor, and then smiles a secret smile to herself. It’s the smile she knows people wear when they’re guarding a secret that’s precious to them, like jewelry or a necklace they like to wear quite often.

But then she remembers what she is — a Bang Baby — and her power of cryokinesis, which is also known as cryomancy and cryogenesis. _Fancy words,_ she thinks, _especially for a power like mine._

She thinks that, while on the plus side those are cool names for her ability to control snow and ice, there are limits to her power as well — such as her snow cocoon being melted away by a Bang Baby who can control fire, and, because of their inherent kinetic energy, Bang Babies with abilities to control fire (like Hotstreak, who she’s heard rumors of) or water (Aquamaria) are resistant to her powers of controlling snow and ice.

She then pulls herself out of her thoughts as she stops and listens, perking up her ears. Soon she hears the voice of someone — a woman, no doubt — singing a song. One Permafrost thinks she’s heard before, in another life maybe.

_Dancing bears, painted wings,_  
_Things I almost remember_  
_And a song someone sings,_  
_Once upon a December_

_Someone holds me safe and warm_  
_Horses prance through a silver storm_  
_Figures dancing gracefully_  
_Across my memory_

Permafrost smiles as she hears the song and thinks the words are so nice to hear. Especially the phrase “silver storm”. She feels those words are quite poetic — especially because the snow is, in her view, the epitome of the “silver storm” itself, but completely different, though.

From her perspective, the song is quite lovely, as well as very inspiring to listen to..

_Far away, long ago,_  
_Glowing dim as an ember_  
_Things my heart used to know_  
_Once upon a December_

Smiling still, Permafrost can’t help but think that the song she is hearing could definitely help someone out, especially if that person was a writer, as well as in need of new ideas, plot lines or plot threads for a story they wanted to write or type up.

_Someone holds me safe and warm_  
_Horses prance through a silver storm_  
_Figures dancing gracefully_  
_Across my memory_

_Far away, long ago_  
_Glowing dim as an ember_  
_Things my heart used to know_  
_Things it yearns to remember_

This time, Permafrost think that the last two lines of that last verse really do remind her of herself a little.. almost.

With that, she kneels down by a frozen puddle and looks at her reflection, her smile now replaced by a look of wonder as the part of her that is Maureen Connor begins rising to the surface of her mind.

_I wonder what it would feel like to be a writer. To put my thoughts into script.. to give a voice to my inner self._

Deep down, Permafrost cannot help but wonder about that. Taking a deep breath and letting it out (while also taking note of how her breath looks to be steam in the cold air), she gets back to her feet and begins trudging to the repair depot of the cable car company — the only place with people like herself. People without a home.

 _Home. A place to go. A roof over a person’s head,_ Permafrost thinks, tears almost beginning to sting at her eyes. That is something she doesn’t have now.

But at least she still has that beautiful song to listen to.. the song **Once Upon a December** , as she now knows it to be called.

_And a song someone sings_  
_Once upon a December..._

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope you liked reading this as much as I did writing it. (Also, I wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays as well.. :))
> 
> Nice feedback is, of course, very much appreciated, as usual.. :)


End file.
